Somewhere between the time I graduated college, getting my graduation present—a caramel colored, saffiano leather, old-lady structured Salvatore Ferragamo purse ($1,050 plus tax), getting a full-time job ($40,000 pre-tax), and spending Saturdays wide-eyed, wandering through the glittering floors of Bergdorf Goodman, I decided that I needed to trade in most of my current wardrobe (consisting mostly of H&M) for a new one suited to my new, imaginary, grown up and sophisticated lifestyle.

This lifestyle involves a lot of standing around wearing impeccable clothes on picturesque cobblestoned streets, being photographed by The Sartorialist or Garance Doré, smoking cigarettes and hailing cabs—though I’ve been known to stumble around an unknown neighborhood alone at 4 a.m. drunk in full flapper regalia, and convince myself that I can walk “a long way away” to the G train that may or may not have been running in lieu of having to take a cab—and being generally chic.

And, having a job and being grown up meant that I can now finally afford it. I mean, $40,000 a year seems kind of a lot, right? Except it’s really $30,000 after taxes, which breaks down to about $2,200 a month, and then there is rent and bills and living in New York City, and then the dream/vague plan of trying to live in Paris for an indefinite while without a job someday, and the five digit savings account that must accompany it. But still! The perfect outfit! Investment pieces! I only needed one of each, and then my life could be as dreamy as the clothes that’d be in it.

So, here’s my ideal outfit broken down by each timeless, classic, and worthwhile piece—and some considerations for the other things I could buy with that money, instead:

It goes with everything. It’s oversized and boyish, yet sexy and feminine. It’s silk (luxurious! Dry cleaning! Add $15 per month, to be minimally disgusting) and comes in an array of basic and sumptuous colors. I probably need a collection—but just one to start. In white. Yes. The white button up: the very important and basis of every sophisticate’s wardrobe.

What’s the difference between ACNE and APC? I keep getting them confused, but Net-A-Porter says, “Acne’s effortlessly chic designs are a perennial favorite with the front row, and these faded stretch-denim skinny jeans are a capsule wardrobe essential,” so it must be my wardrobe essential too. I mean, I have a pair of jeggings from UNIQLO that I bought for $20 that look really good for not real jeans, and I can also roll up the hem on those, but the perfect outfit must consist of valuable pieces, so, this.

What else this money could buy:

• 5 weeks of groceries consisting of frozen entrees and snacks for someone who doesn’t cook: $50 each
• 12 and a half pairs of UNIQLO jeggings: $20 each
• 31 bottles of Essie nail polish in assorted shades, textures and finishes: $8 each
• 50 meals of chicken over rice from halal carts around the city: $5 each

Aside from just being basic black pumps, Louboutins also happen to be sexy and a controversial status symbol, and that gorgeous red sole can make an otherwise boring outfit not boring. I have a personal obsession! And they’re reasonably priced, comparatively. Also, 4-inch heels are totally fine for strutting up and down gum studded subway stairs—I mean, on and off curbed streets to awaiting taxis.

What else this money could buy:

• 90% of my 2011 taxes for my brief summer stint as a real estate agent: $680 each
• 3 pairs of these nice but not red-soled blackpumps from J. Crew: $198 each
• 20 slightly hung over brunches with mimosas: $30 each
• 125 loads of laundry at the 24 hour laundromat down the street: $5 each

It’s not much of a perfect outfit without a colorful statement accessory, and nothing is quite as a classic/classy accessory as a Hermès scarf. This one is just charming, with crowns and belt buckles and knotted ropes in shades of pink and purple. Elegant and whimsical and playful and more importantly: Hermès!!

What else this money could buy:

• 2 Frigidaire 6000 BTU Compact Window Air Conditioners (because enough of New York summers without air conditioning, okay?): $189 each
• 8 iPod shuffles, one in every color for you, and three to give away to friend: $49 each
• 68 tins of RosebudSalve lip balm: $6 each
• 136 bottles of three buck for the budding, yet stylish, alcoholic: $2 each

Bonus: Chanel red lipstick, $32

I love red lipstick. So much. Having a bad day? A bad hair day? A bad face day? Try red lipstick. Want to make any outfit instantly glamorous/intimidating/sophisticated? (That is, if said outfit is comprised of aforementioned luxury basics.) Try red lipstick. And there is nothing like red lipstick in that glossy, clicks when it closes, beautiful black Chanel case. Worth every penny.

What else this money could buy:

• 1L bottle of Powers Irish Whiskey: $32

Total: $2,512

Amended Total: $3,512

(Because I already own the perfect purse, but otherwise, factor in $1,000-$1,500 for a luxury basic

God that ring is adorable. It’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s and kind of French seeming(?), and 18K gold so it’s probably important to own when the dollar crashes, and isn’t it just the slightly quirky/edgy yet still classy and subtle jewelry needed to complete that impeccable outfit? Yes. And it’s still less than the cost of that entire wardrobe.

@cherrispryte Yeah, nope. According to google shopping, if a person over a size 14 wants a $1000 trench coat, they’re going to have to get a bespoke one. Which, I suppose, at that price point, is probably for the best anyway.
And there was exactly one white silk shirt and one pair of comparable jeans that matched the prices, both from the same super-high-end brand. ONE.
I am, of course, now obsessed with the white silk shirt. Damn.

True stories of true deals:
$300 for a Burberry trench (Harbourne) at Saks following the crazy economic meltdown of 2007! One of my treasured pieces. $20 for Acne jeans at Loehmanns. Yay for style on the cheap!

Also, should any of you be in the area: There’s an Acne outlet in Stockholm where I bought a sweater for the equivalent of $30. Yay!

I can tell you that the Hermes scarf is overrated. I got one as a gift… not prompted by me. It is beautiful, but I have worn it exactly 2x. It is not a very “young” looking piece, and my name isn’t Bunny.

“This thing I’m telling you about, I saw with my own eyes: behind my window of Hell, I clenched my teeth, and watched the town of Bardez turn into a heap of ashes. The corpses were piled as high as trees, and from the springs, from the streams and the road, the blood was a stubborn murmur, and still calls revenge in my ear. … Don’t be afraid; I must tell you what I saw, so people will understand the crimes men do to men.”

Who is Laura Yan?

What is the definition of “life”?

Angels, desperate for breath, have been known to steal it from the living. The price: to one day die, and, having cast aside God’s own design, to spend the remainder of Everything and Nothing in that other place, where go those who could not find satisfaction or solace in simple goodness, or the love of goodness, or decency, or honesty, or the truth, wherever it may be, no, but needed their psyches subsidized by red palms and overpriced cheese.

What potency wot could spy the machinations of the human rat-king down below, would willingly submit to this sexed-up (I mean even moreso) Guantánamo, only to be then be forever filled with fire, and encased in ice? Yes, these body snatchers do the hedon’s work, but even those glorified medusæ must loosen their gorgon’s tendrils upon the sting of the initial penetration of Loss.

Even cows can feel stress. This is reassuring, is it not?

Who is Laura Yan? She is the Ratking, a billion dæmonic sewer rats shifting and swimming within one another as a single black, shrieking Leviathan, stretching abominably into the distance, beyond where one perceives the curvature of the Earth, beyond what you or I can comprehend, al the endless victimsss of all the miniscule mistakes we allow ourselves each day, and forget, ere our next breath cruelly births us into infinite insidious futures, with barely enough time to let escape those words, “I’m burning, I’m burning, throw more oil on the fire; I’m drowning, I’m drowning, throw me into a deep sea.”

Was it worth it, to smoke that cigarette? To experience constipation? Was it?

“Rain will fall again on your smooth pavement, a light rain like a breath or a step. The breeze and the dawn will flourish again when you return, as if beneath your step. … There will be other days, there will be other voices. You will smile alone. The cats will know.”

May you wake up to discover all your possessions have become rabid bat fæces, and may your perilously greased-up and impotent conception of “France” actually come into existence, only to be fire-bombed until it rests below the crust of the Earth, Hitler’s Atlantis.